Manly Wager
by PrincessDesire
Summary: A friendly wager over a game of pool might turn Hank and Logan into more. Will have sequels later.
1. Chapter 1

Hank dragged his glasses down his nose to exaggerate his look of incredulity. "For having extraordinary healing abilities, you sure end up here with me more than the others."

The sterile room was dimly lit by one single lamp. It was late at night and Hank was the only one still around the infirmary. Logan was sitting atop the examination table with a conceited smirk. "You are one lucky furrball then."

Hank chuckled briefly. "Your visits are like little winning lottery tickets."

"Yeah well, I don't need medical attention as usual. These kids think just because I get knocked unconscious by a car door hitting me in the head that I need to come and see your big blue ass." With a shrug of his muscular shoulders, he adds, "I don't know why they always carry me here."

Hank looked surprised. "A car door?"

"At least it wasn't a car this time." Logan's eyes closed as he remembered the specific incident he was speaking. "That wasn't fun."

Setting down the clipboard that he had been holding, Hank moved closer towards his patient. He peered down at Logan's forehead. "There's still a dent." Logan felt self-conscious about the examination. He squinted an eye at the doctor. "Oh wait, that's just how your head is shaped."

"Are you sure you want to cross the whole ugly-looking line? Cause personally I think that could go badly for you." His eyes flashed a challenge at Hank. It was late and he wanted to head to bed, but talking with the beast had become one of his more fun activities. It had taken them a long time to warm up to each other, but the more time they spent together, the more Logan appreciated his style.

Hank sighed. "Need any Band-Aids while you're down here? Perhaps a cat scan so that we can see if there is any damage to your brain – if said brain truly exists?"

"Cute," said Logan hopping off the table.

"Compliments on my looks now? Thank you Wolverine, I wish I could reciprocate, but it'd just be a lie. Oh hey," he called before Logan left. "Try not to get hit in the head by anymore car doors. Just some medical advice."

Logan flipped him a thumbs up before heading out for the night.

Happiness lit Hank up for a little bit as he went about his menial tasks. The bliss was completely gone by the time he crawled in between his large empty bed in his desolate room.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Oh god! You spilled some on my sleeve!" shrieked Rogue.

Bobby was hovering over her with a bowl and ladle. "Sorry sweetie. At least the color doesn't clash with your eyes."

Most of the school's students were around the huge dining table. Saturday dinners were prepared as a group activity. It wasn't mandatory, but such a looked-forward to event that each week the turnout was excellent. Staff didn't have to help out either, but usually they did. Not Logan of course, but he enjoyed the fruits of everyone's labor.

"Can't you chew with your mouth closed?" Kitty yelled at him.

He deliberately chewed sloppier receiving a glare from her and an admonishment from Ororo. "Please refrain from being a negative influence Logan."

"Wouldn't he have to be dead for that?" asked Hank.

"Being dead isn't a bad influence?" asked Logan tersely. The only time his fellow mutants felt safe to insult him was when Beast was around. Which meant that for short periods of time he didn't get any respect. Still, their time spent together had been increasing lately. Not very many of the others were as sharp-tongued and easy-going.

A child ran into the dining room. His eyes were big and round like CDs. "Come and see what Peter's carrying!" He then ran out of the room. With that kind of build-up, who wouldn't get up to look?

A crowd formed around Peter who was setting down a pool table into the study. It hadn't fit easily through the doorway, but now he was lifting it gently from spot to spot trying to get it just right. Once he had it in the right position, he smiled at the swarm of students and teachers around him. "Gift from Professor X."

There were happy shouts. Wolverine's eyes were smiling at Beast, but his lips were still passive. "The sticks are still out in my truck. Anyone want to help me carry those in?" There were several kids that volunteered, even Bobby who would always be about ten in his heart.

"I see my little surprise got here in one piece. Thank you very much Piotr." The professor rolled in and nodded his head to Colossus. Piotr shrugged his massive shoulders. It hadn't been a big effort for him to carry the thing inside. He ushered out the children to bring in the pool table's accessories. "Obviously, the children will need supervision with it. I didn't think you would mind."

Ororo quickly assured him that it would be no trouble providing the children with supervision. "And I think it is wonderful that they will have more recreation than that television."

"Jamie's still gonna watch TV," said Warren. "He never leaves that damn machine."

"I might stop for a bit to play a game of pool," Jamie said defensively. He was just returning from Piotr's truck with a stick in his hand. Behind him followed two more of himself also bearing cues. "But Smallville is on tonight, so I can't waste all my time here."

"I think the grownups should test it out," Logan suggested. Immediately there were objections from the youngins.

"But we go to bed earlier!"

"We want to play too!"

"Let us test it!"

Logan winced. Little kids yelling was one of his least favorite things. He probably lived in a bad place for that. Ororo chided him. "Logan, it is their pool table too. Besides, they can only use it when a grownup is around. You can use it anytime you want, except now."

"I get first game after the pipsqueaks lose consciousness." He left the room, not wanting to watch other people get to play. There were things that he needed to do anyway. There were pants that needed the button sewn back on them. With his needle skills, that would take him most of the night. Then there was his room that needed desperate attention. It was reaching the point where he couldn't find the floor. What a domestic night he had ahead of him. He frowned on the way up the stairs to his room.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Next victim!" Logan was carrying the pool stick over his shoulder. They had successfully wiped out every opponent so far. Logan never in one million years have guessed that Hank would be good at pool. If he hadn't been so self-absorbed when it had arrived, he would have noticed Hank's enthusiasm that matched his own. Now that they were playing, it was obvious that he was every bit as much of a pool aficionado as himself.

Hank laughed. "I believe Ororo is eager to beat us. Too bad she won't be able to."

Ororo snatched a pool cue from Scott's hand. "Oh, I think I can give it a shot. Kurt, are you brave enough to take these two on?"

Kurt Wagner had yet to play, but he seemed like the type that could shoot a ball any direction he wanted. "I have the bravery, but I fear I lack the skill."

Ororo rolled her eyes. "Kurt! Some bravado would be appropriate here."

"Ah. In that case, I shall truly dazzle you with my superior abilities." He winked at her and whispered, "My ability to miss every shot."

Hank coughed in impatience. Logan grinned over at him. "They're stalling, but it ain't gonna save them is it Hairball?"

"This one is mine," Hank said evilly. He was eager to show Ororo just how good at pool he was. He had been holding back until now, but there was something in him that wanted to impress his ex-girlfriend.

Ororo pushed past Logan. "I will break."

"Nice manners Stormy." She then showed him how mannered he could be by producing an obscene finger gesture. Hank and Logan exchanged surprised looks and then laughed heartily.

The break was clean, but no balls were sunk. It was too bad for Ororo, since that was her last time to touch the cue that game. Hank proceeded to sink every single ball after that. He snickered and teased at her while he made his shots. Logan enjoyed his competitive and aggressive side, usually something unseen except in their verbal bouts.

"I'm sorry Ororo, did you actually want to play?" Hank taunted just before calling the eight-ball. At this point, Ororo knew she wasn't a rival and she was just enjoying seeing this mischievous side of her beast.

It was very late at night when Hank sunk the eight against Ororo. All the children except Jamie were in bed. Most of the adults were in their rooms, some of them doing adult things. In the library there were five of them: Logan, Hank, Ororo, Kurt, and Piotr. And Piotr was starting to drift off, his head resting on a fist.

"No one can beat you!" exclaimed Kurt.

"Nice of you to notice," said Hank with twinkling eyes.

"You two wiped out every competitor tonight, but I still want to see the ultimate match," challenged Ororo.

Hank and Logan exchanged panicked looks. Both had seen the other play that night and knew what they were up against. "Yeah, you guys should do that while I go to bed," said Piotr.

"Ooh! A Xavier school match to the death!" said Kurt, excited.

Logan grinned. "Eh, he doesn't have what it takes to beat me."

Hank let himself bite onto the bait that his friend was throwing out. "Care to make a bet on that?"

"What are we betting fluffhead?"

After a few moments of thought, an idea entered into Hank's head. There were a lot of other thoughts that followed after. But it was late at night and he didn't want to hesitate. "The loser has to be the winner's slave for 24 hours."

Ororo took a quick glance over at Kurt to see if he had noticed anything dirty about that challenge. But as usual, Kurt was utterly naïve. Then she looked at Piotr who was thinking the same thing she was. She knew this by the new, alert way he was looking at her and then by the thumbs up sign he flashed her. Over the past few weeks, Hank and Logan's flirting had begun to attract attention.

"I should have known you'd want something perverted," Logan observed.

Hank's mouth dropped open. "You are such an ego-maniac. I wasn't talking about a sex slave."

"Why not? You could probably use it," laughed Logan as he began to ready the table for the next game. To do so, he had to brush past Hank. As he did he whispered, "After all, your last sex slave switched fuzzy blue men."

Hank grimaced at the insult. He looked to Ororo who was at that moment whispering something into Kurt's ear. They had been broken up for a while before she started dating Kurt, but there was still a part of him that felt burned by it. "Low blow Logan."

Logan frowned. "Sorry," was all he said. He hadn't meant to hurt Hank, just to get him back for the "ego-maniac" comment. "I accept your challenge."

"Of course you do, with your mind on sex slaves and all."

"Fuzzy, if I wanted you, you'd already be in my bed curly-toed with a cigarette in your mouth."

The room gaped at Logan, all of them. Kurt got a creepy shiver up his spine. Now he was starting to notice.

"You wanna flip the coin?" Logan asked calmly. Hank was still getting over the visual that he had just presented.

"You go ahead. Best two of three right?"

Piotr groaned. "Three more games? But I want to see who wins!"

"Well we ain't video taping them bub," replied Logan.

"Don't worry Piotr, this won't take long."

With that dare, the two finally began their match to the death (of freedom). Hank won the coin toss. So, he proceeded to sink every ball on the table. Logan watched looking totally confident. He just needed an opening and he would win.

The second game, Piotr began to snore loudly from one of the library's cushy chairs. Kurt was sitting on the back of the loveseat with Storm leaning back into him. She had opened the French doors and they could hear the sound of crickets when the clacking of billiard balls wasn't sounding. Logan had won the coin toss and he followed Hank's lead by cleaning the table. Hank yawned. "Hey Ororo, what time is it?"

She looked to the outside night sky. "Still a few hours before daylight. I believe it is around 3."

"Didn't realize you were a clock Stormy." Logan took another excellent shot, nearing the eight-ball but not actually knocking it in prematurely.

She stuck her tongue out at him. "I'm rooting for Hank."

"Big surprise there, everyone roots for the underdog. Eight in corner pocket." The move went just as he had called it making the two tied.

"Just leave me alone!" came a shout from outside. It was Rogue's voice and instantly Logan was at the opened doorway. He saw her and Remy standing just outside the front door of the mansion. "You always treat me like this. I can't even stand to look at ya."

Their bodies shuffled about a bit as Remy tried to grab her arm to keep her from going inside. Wolverine felt the pain as his claws came out on his right hand. He hadn't willed them to do that, but seeing anyone bothering Rogue caused something to click in his head, like a homicidal light switch.

She pushed him away from her. "I'm serious this time. We are through. Ya hear me? I hope you die, you bastard." It ruined her entrance a little to unlock the door, but she wasn't Shadowcat. When she was inside, she slammed the door on his face and re-bolted the lock. Wolverine walked back to the pool table.

"I'll be right back."

Hank nodded. "Take your time."

After he left the room, Kurt asked, "Is he going after Rogue…or Remy?"


	2. Chapter 2

"Rogue darlin'?" Logan nervously tapped on her door with one knuckle. She immediately opened it, because she knew he would come. When he entered it was with the same trepidation in his walk he always came into her room with. To him she was a strange entity somewhere between girl and woman. In a way, she would always be the little stowaway, but now she had enticing feminine wiles. The combination unnerved him and he was rarely comfortable with her in such intimate settings.

"I hate men," stated Rogue, taking up a fetal sitting position on her bed.

"What did he do?" His claws had retracted since the porch confrontation, but could easily pop out again depending on her response.

She sighed. "I just don't get why he bothers to try to have a relationship with me if he's so hung up on the physical. He knows that I can't, so why does he bother with me?" She sobbed for a bit into her knees. Logan waited for her to get it out.

She finally did, her breathing ragged and little hiccupy noises growing fainter. "He was with another woman."

Logan had figured. Remy didn't really seem like the one-woman type. Treating Rogue that way, especially with how sensitive she was about her condition was unforgivable. "Do you need me to hurt him?"

Rogue smiled sincerely at him. "You serious?"

"You know I am."

She leaned forward and hugged his chest tightly. "You're my guardian angel."

"Is that a yes then?" He wouldn't enjoy making Remy bleed and he'd probably take shit from Chuck about it, but he'd do it for her.

She shook her head. "Naw, I understand why he did it."

Logan eyed her with bemusement. She was the most important woman in his life now that Jean had passed on. She was spunk and beauty and fierceness. He adored her and had hoped someday a man worth of her would do the same.

"If you're going to excuse him treating you like that I'm gonna…"

"I'm not excusing him. He shouldn't be in a relationship with me if he can't take it. But, I understand. I wouldn't want me either." The tears started again.

"Rogue, you have become the most…" he stopped unable to think of words to continue that thought. She looked at him expectantly. "Damn. I'm no good at this kind of thing. You're special and I like you and I hate that skeeze for making you hurt."

"I love you too Logan," she said sweetly. "I'm glad you're always there for me when I need ya."  
She squeezed him one more time before sitting back against her headboard. "How was your night?"

Logan fought the grin that wanted to appear. "Just teachin' the Beast how real men play pool. Oh, Chuck bought a school pool table."

"That should be fun," she said unenthusiastically. Her eyes were closed in emotional exhaustion.

He scratched his head. "Yeah, I'm actually in a kind of match with him. We have a twenty-four hours slave-bet going."

"You should get back to that then."

"You wanna watch?"

As a response, Rogue pulled the blankets up and slid under. Logan stood up so that she could burrow her feet under the spot he was sitting. "I think I just wanna sleep."  
She looked old and worn down. He reached out and touched her gloved hand. "Sleep good, 'kay kid?"

"Goodnight Logan. And thanks."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Everything all right?" asked Hank when Logan returned. The others had given up and gone to bed, after they woke up Piotr. Hank was reading through the better scenes of Great Expectations.

"Nothing some manslaughter wouldn't help."

Hank grinned. "You know, it's only manslaughter if it's not pre-meditated." He rose and returned the book to the shelf.

"Yeah, but manslaughter sounds worse. So, shall I beat you so that we can get some shut-eye?" The table was already racked and ready to go. Logan grabbed his pool cue. At least, he thought it was the same one he had been using before.

Hank also grabbed a stick. "Are you up to it?"

"I'm always up for kicking your ass." Logan looked around for the coin.

"So fascinated with my ass, as usual," quipped Beast as he held up the coin that Logan was looking for.

"In that case, I call tails."

The coin landed heads side up. Logan just had to sit and hope that Hank screwed up.

"Is Rogue okay? It seemed like a pretty bad fight."

Logan shrugged. "Who here doesn't have love problems. We're like a goddamn soap opera."

Hank grunted in agreement. He'd been alone since Ororo, though she'd moved on with Kurt. Logan had been in love with a very attached Jean then been forced to stab her to death in order to save the world. Charles and Magneto seemed to have some kind of connection despite being archenemies.

"Oh hey, that reminds me. Sorry again about what I said." Logan had felt the impact when he had tossed out that insult about Storm. He had crossed some kind of teasing line. "I was a dick."

"Don't worry, I'm used to it." Hank paused from his shot wondering about whether he should explain his Ororo problem. He then figured what the hell. "Since they started dating, I've wondered if maybe she just dated me for my looks."

Logan perceived the melancholy that was in Hank's voice. He leaned back against the wall watching Hank take his shot. He was listening intently, this was his friend, but there was still a part of his brain hoping that he would mess up. He didn't; the ball went as aimed.

"It's strange. I've spent so long worrying that people wouldn't like me for my looks and then I'm afraid of being wanted solely for them."

Logan laughed. "Yeah, I hate when beautiful women want to use me for my body."

"Ororo is more than beautiful. She is…intoxicating."

"I don't know that I'd go that far. Well, she's not really my type." For one thing, Ororo wasn't a red head. Logan's brain wistfully conjured up an image of Jean Grey in his mind.

"What is your type?" asked Hank not looking up from the table.

An easy question, he had put a lot of thought into that. "My ideal woman. Okay, she's got Jeannie's knock out body right?"

Hank nodded. Of course he would mention Jean. Death had only served to raise her pedestal.

"Then Rogue's spunk. Don't look at me like that. It's platonic. Okay, then Jube's optimism. Ororo's stubbornness, definitely. She cracks me up with her willpower," Logan smiled. His memory took him on a little trip of times when he'd seen her determination. "And your wit."

Hank's hand faltered on the cue. Had he just heard Logan correctly? "I'm on your list of the ideal woman?"

With a shrug, Logan explained. "Yeah, so?"

Setting down his stick, Hank glared at Logan. "You do realize that I am not a woman."

A shocked look came over Logan's face. "Oh man, boy do I feel silly!"

"Not funny," said Hank with a scowl. He picked his stick back up. "Don't you find it a little pathetic that I'm on your list? Side pocket for the win."

Logan wasn't ashamed to admit that his friend had qualities that he looked for in a girlfriend. Hell, he had more fun with Hank than most of the women he'd dated. He didn't have to worry about offending him or accidentally knicking him with a claw. They'd scrapped a few times actually, resulting in some injuries on Beast's side, but nothing serious. He could be himself around Hank. "Not really. I'd date ya."

With slightly shaky hand, Hank botched the shot. The eight ball missed the side pocket. He glared angrily at Logan. "Psychological warfare is low."

Logan laughed. "Did I scare or entice you?" He stepped forward with his cue feeling totally in control and about to win.

Hank didn't answer, not that it was expected. The answer was supposed to be scare. It certainly wasn't supposed to be, "You made my poor hopeful little heart do backflips."

"I hope you're prepared to be my slave, cause I need some laundry done. Side pocket and unlike you, I'll hit it." A groan came from his opponent. Logan focused on the shot. He felt the power of victory pumping through his body before he even stabbed at the cue ball. In fact, he used so much power that the ball bounced off the corner of the intended target. Logan's jaw dropped as it bounced into a different hole with a final thunk.

"I may have some laundry that needs done as well," said Hank with a huge beastly grin.

The stick made a cracking noise as Logan squeezed the hell out of it. He stared at the tear near the top of the stick in surprise. He hadn't meant to break the thing. Hank didn't care about the damaged stick. "Be at my door at nine sharp. You can help me in the lab," he instructed. His face was still glowing with happiness.

"So, four hours from now?" asked Logan looking at the lightening sky.

"You'd better rest up. I have a lot of work that needs done." He left the room, but once in the hall he began to laugh. It wasn't a boisterous laugh it was a mad scientist laugh. Logan shook his head then went ahead and broke the already damaged stick in two.


	3. Chapter 3

"So, what does the boss man have in mind?" asked Logan loudly, his shoulder leaning casually against the lab's door frame. Unfortunately, his Fonz-like approach to his defeat and subsequent punishment was for naught since Hank wasn't present.

"Furball?" Logan entered the empty room. "Hank?"

The lab was a separate room in the infirmary divided by a glass wall and door. There were two tables with beakers and Bunsen burners and other scientific gadgets that Logan had never learned to use and had no interest in. Behind these tables was Hank's desk. Many times Logan had walked in to the infirmary and seen Hank reluctantly stop whatever he was working on back there to help whoever had come in.

He did notice, however, a large paper bag with the name Logan scrawled across it in red sharpie.

'Just great,' he thought, already feeling disgruntled by ill-treatment that had yet to occur. Sourly he grabbed the bag and peered at its contents: an envelope and some clothing.

He snatched up the letter. He couldn't help but to hear Beast's snarky voice as he read the practically illegible handwriting.

[To my slave – ]

[I hope this letter finds you well and rested. I am sorry that I am not able to instruct you in person, but I do look forward to inspecting your work later in the day. In this bag you will find your lab-cleaning uniform. I do hope that you find it as flattering as I'm sure it will be. On the next page you will find your task list for the day; I do expect to see all of these chores done and done well. I will come to collect you some time later today. They say that keeping a positive attitude makes any chore easier, so Logan, I would love for you to "whistle while you work." ]

[Your master and billiards superior, ]

[Hank McCoy]

'That bastard.' Logan pulled his uniform out of the bag. It was an apron, a ridiculously frilly apron that wore the phrase "I kiss better than I cook." Beneath that were some rubber gloves, eye goggles, and other safety paraphernalia that Wolverine wouldn't need on account of his healing powers.

With a growl, he flipped to the second page to see his chore list. It would have been one thing if Hank had been there; this was way more demeaning. No one would be able to see that he was doing it all with a casual, smirking grin on his face. All anyone would know is that he was a good little slave and did everything he was told. 'Damn that bastard,' Logan thought before putting on the apron. He couldn't get over how well Hank knew him, knew that he would try and pull off the servitude with bravado. Well dammit, he would do a good job cleaning up the joint. It looked like it needed it anyway.

Many floors higher in the mansion, Beast rolled over in bed. He took a glance at the clock, smiled, and then curled up tighter to go back to sleep.

-----------------

Hank took a nice leisurely shower. His morning felt amazingly good. He had left a note for Charles explaining that he was taking the day off before he'd even gone to sleep. Now it was lunchtime and he was just getting out of bed. He felt decadent. He used a little extra conditioner on his body fluff. It only added to his pleasure to know that Logan was down in the lab cleaning out all his cupboards and doing those little tasks that he had been putting off doing for months now.

He had never told anyone about the bar that he frequented nearly every night. He had an image that he had wanted to protect. It wouldn't do for everyone to know about his drinking and pool playing nights. Ororo knew, but she would never betray a confidence. She was such an amazing person, that Hank wasn't sure that he'd ever be over her. It had been well over a year and his chest still tightened when she was near, like his heart was a black hole sucking everything inside.

Those frequent trips to the Barracuda Bar and Lounge, his home away from home, had paid off. Hank had played like a pro last night, sinking nearly every shot he aimed for. He hadn't ever played that well before, but that could be due in part to the quality of billiard equipment at the Barracuda. The balls had chips in them and the sticks were warped. The table itself had beer rings and a couple of the corners had fraying fabric. Still, Hank loved that table; five nights a week, it was his table.

He took longer getting ready. He brushed his fur longer and put a bit more thought into his attire for the day. It was his intention to milk this opportunity for all it was worth. How often did anyone get leverage on Logan? He was looking forward to seeing Logan hard at work wearing that old frilly apron. His mirror shone back a well-groomed and smiling blue man.

Over the last few months it seemed like the only time he did smile, from the heart, was when he and Logan were verbally sparring. Actually, just spending time around him cheered Hank up. He hadn't thought too much on it, but now he realized that he viewed Logan as a friend. More than that, he considered Logan a good friend. He didn't know when that had happened, but he was glad it did. There were few people that understood him.

On his stroll down to the infirmary, Hank smiled and nodded at the people he passed. He was hoping to see Rogue, but no luck. After her fight with Remy, he was concerned that she might still be crying in her room. He wouldn't intrude into her life and actually check in, that was more of Logan's job, but he kept an eye out for her in the halls.

He straightened up before opening the infirmary doors. The smell of chemicals, hopefully properly disposed of, overwhelmed his superior senses. He was so glad that he hadn't had to do this job.

Logan was on all fours with bottles surrounding his body. His head was underneath the sink as he scrubbed out the cupboard where the bottles were stored. He hadn't even heard the door chime of Hank coming in. Hank watched in smug pleasure as his temporary slave plugged away. All he could see of his slave was a denim-clad backside and he could hear the swish-swish of the sponge. It wasn't too bad of a view.

"Having fun?" asked Hank, startling Logan. He backed out of the cupboard and glared up at his furry friend. With a venomous look, Logan began to restock the cupboard. Hank waited patiently as each bottle was neatly replaced.

When Logan finally stood up, he watched his friend with disapproving wariness. "So, are you ready to start on my laundry?" asked Hank. He was practically bubbling with amusement.

Logan looked as if he was about to say something, then pursed his lips together and whistled.

---------------------------------

"I could make a sweater from this lint trap." Hank had Logan performing little errands and cleaning while the loads of laundry had been running. He was just finishing up the third load and was beginning to run out of steam. He was so ready for dinner.

"I didn't know you knew how to knit, but I should have guessed."

Logan sat next to Hank on the bench in the laundry room. He let out a deep sigh at how good just sitting felt. Ah well, he wasn't the kind to welsh on a bet. In fact, he would have been a lot crueler to Hank if he had won.

"Are you tired?" asked Hank. He was starting to feel a bit bad for actually treating Logan like a servant. It was all in fun and he didn't actually want him to be miserable.

Logan grinned. "Just because I got four hours of sleep and have been catering to you for…" He looked at his watch. "Eight hours doesn't mean that I'm tired."

"Should we see if they have dinner ready?" suggested Hank.

"Hell yes."

------------------------------------------------------

Dinner was ready and Logan piled it away with a bit more enthusiasm than usual. Hank regaled the table with the long list of chores that he had subjected Logan to doing. Though he glared and occasionally growled, he was much more interested in his food than what Hank was yammering about. The kids were teasing him. He hated it when they weren't afraid of him. The only time kids seemed to behave was when they had fear of the person trying to discipline them; at least that was how he viewed it.

Kurt was paying more attention to their interaction after Ororo had explained her suspicions last night. He wasn't used to seeing any kind of flirtation between two men and he certainly didn't see it as such. Still, Ororo really knew people much better than he did and so he was on guard, not wanting to miss it if she was right.

Ororo was pleased as punch that Hank had won. She wished that she had been there to see it, but the game had just gone on too late. Most nights of the week he went to that bar and played pool. He had never told anyone but her, so she had been surprised that he was willing to show off what he had learned. It really was amazing how good he had become. If he wasn't a mutant, he could go pro.

"So, all you've had him do for you are chores?" asked Piotr suggestively. "I can't believe I was waiting up for that."

Hank chuckled, but with an embarrassed tone. "Perhaps one day you can defeat him in pool…"

"No, no, no. I ain't making anymore stupid bets on that pool table. Not that you haven't been a great boss Fuzzy." He was gaining his energy back from the food, but he was still a bit grumpy about how the game had gone. He had wanted to win so bad and had been so surprised to fail.

Piotr rolled his eyes. He hadn't been thinking that he wanted Wolverine. No, he had wanted to see the two guys finally do something about their tension. As a gay man, it was possible that he was seeing something that wasn't there, but he didn't think so. He was convinced that the two needed to bang the hell out of each other.

"After seeing you both play, I doubt that anyone would be foolish enough to offer a challenge," complimented Ororo.

"Thank you Ororo," said Hank with an incline of his head. He looked at Logan. Logan was picking at the remnants of dinner on his plate. This was a great day. He felt positively jolly.

After dinner wrapped up, Logan followed his master upstairs. Hank wanted to grab some photos that Ororo had asked for. He was running out of things for Logan to do, but he didn't really feel that he should dismiss him so early.

Logan felt awkward standing in Hank's room while Hank tore through his closet. "So, why does Stormy want these pictures?" He had never been in Hank's room. It had more clutter than his, but so did every room in the mansion. Logan didn't like to set down roots anywhere and so he didn't have any knickknacks or decorations in his room.

Hank had a brown blanket that didn't look very warm on his bed. Logan had never considered that Hank probably wouldn't need much to keep warm even in winter. His curtains were also brown with some green accents. Overall, the room had a nature feel to it that fit Hank's appearance but not so much his personality. Whenever Logan thought about his friend, things like books and lab equipment came to mind. He seemed to immerse himself in manmade things, though he did take the kids out for nature hikes on occasion. Even in those cases though, he would recite what kinds of plants and trees they would find.

There was a small, cluttered desk beside Hank's bed that looked as if it was used more often than the bed was. There were papers and books built into a pile in the center. Logan spotted some stray hairs atop the pile. Yes, just as he'd thought. No doubt they had at least once been used as a pillow. It didn't look like a particularly comfortable pile.

A box crashed loudly to the ground. "Well, that needed moved anyway," joked Beast. He checked its contents, crouching next to the box. His face brightened as he pulled out a booklet of photos. "Voila!"

"What does she want the photos for?" repeated Logan.

Hank stood up and glanced at him. "Well, these are from that trip that we took to Niagara Falls. I think that she wants a copy. We only purchased the one set."

"And you're just going to give them to her? Don't you want them?" Logan asked.

Hank hadn't pulled them out of his closet in years. Was it important to keep them? "I'm sure she won't want all of them and I don't really look at them anymore…obviously."

He restacked the box in his closet. Logan felt like he'd been a bit nosey, which wasn't something people tended to accuse him of. "Hey, you mind if I look in on Rogue? She wasn't at dinner."

"I had noticed that as well. Yes, of course Logan."

Logan smiled politely at him before heading off to look after his friend. Hank pulled his desk chair out a bit to sit down. He snatched the photo booklet off the bed where he had set it. Niagara Falls. He hadn't thought about that trip for a very long time and it had surprised him when Ororo had mentioned it.

Flipping through it, it amazed him how well he remembered everything. Ororo had felt a kinship to the powerful water, always attracted to forces of nature. She had seemed hypnotized by it. He had been hypnotized by her, her beauty and her spirit. He had felt so lucky to be with her. Never had a moment passed that he hadn't been grateful, never taking for granted this goddess's affection.

Hank sighed. He was so damned lonely now. Normally when this feeling reached him, he'd sneak off to Barracuda, but Logan had said that he'd be back. Instead, he changed into more casual clothes and decided to work on those research notes.

------------------------------------------------------

"Rogue darlin'?" Logan never felt more uncomfortable than when he was visiting Rogue's room. He felt like a dirty old pervert. No, he felt like others would perceive him as a dirty old pervert, even though he had nothing but honorable intentions. If Rogue hadn't grown into such a striking young lady, perhaps he wouldn't have worried so much, but there was no way to know.

"Come on in Logan," Rogue called and he entered into her room.

She was sitting Indian-style on her bed. Her eyes were red and her hair was un-brushed. He set down the plate of food that he'd brought up for her on the bed. "Brought grub," he said.

"I kinda thought you might." Rogue smiled at him sincerely and reached for the plate. He was glad to see that she had an appetite. "Tell me Logan, how bad do I look?"

He shrugged. He might not have a girlfriend, but he knew better than to answer that one. She looked like she'd just broken up with her boyfriend and that was okay since she had.

She grabbed some of the chicken with her fingers and proceeded to scarf. He wished he'd brought more seeing how quickly she was eating. "You could have come to dinner."

Rogue shook her head. "No."

He just nodded. Not that the two were too similar, but when he'd lost Jeannie, he hadn't wanted to leave his room either. Comparing breaking up with your cheating boyfriend or stabbing the woman you were in love with to death was pointless. Still, in a way, heartbreak was heartbreak regardless of the circumstances.

"Maybe tomorrow?" he asked.

"Maybe." She really didn't know if she was up for ever leaving her room again, but there was a possibility that she would for more than just relieving her bladder. "Did you see him today?"

Logan shook his head. "Been Beast's bitch all day."

She looked at him in surprise and then laughed with feeling. It made him smile a bit to hear her laugh. "What?"

"Well, you know the pool match I mentioned last night?"

Her eyes floated upwards. "I think I remember you saying something, but I wasn't really… I'm sorry, I wasn't payin' attention."

"No problem girly. He won at pool, so I'm his slave until nine tomorrow." When she smiled at him, he decided to try and make her laugh again. "I cleaned his lab, did his laundry… did you know that he wears boxers with little rubber duckies on them?" This was a damn lie, but it succeeded in making Rogue laugh.

"Really, I'd have thought it'd be a banana hammock!" she teased. They both laughed.

"Ugh. That'll be in my head for a while."

"Thanks for checking in on me Logan." Her face looked so sweet. Logan felt kind of like a hero when she looked at him like that. No one else had ever made him feel like that, well, only one other person had.

"You'll be okay kiddo. Want me to fetch you another plate?"

Rogue was about to decline, but then she was still pretty hungry and she had no intention of going down to the kitchen. "Could I also get some juice or something?"

"Girly, you can have whatever the hell you want." He would offer her up the world if he could. Instead, he filled up her belly and hoped that somehow that would help her heart mend.


	4. Chapter 4

AUTHOR'S NOTE: For some reason the first half of this chapter didn't get uploaded. I just noticed tonight as I was re-reading it. That really sucks because I worked hard on the first half. Anyway, maybe it will seem a bit more complete with that. Not sure what happened. Grrr.

* * *

"How is she?" asked Hank as Logan came into the room. He had finally been doing work he'd been putting off for ages. Still, he welcomed the interruption. He could tell by Logan's face that it had gone well.

"She'll be fine. That is one strong kid." He seemed to be bragging as if he was a father. There were many times that Hank had seen that kind of paternal side of Logan when he spoke about Rogue. It made him proud of Logan, to see him taking that kind of interest in another person.

"Well," Hank clapped his hands together. "I had a thought."

"Holy crap! We'll have to write this day down on the calendar," Logan joked.

"Would you like to see where I became your pool superior?" He chose to ignore the lame insult and hoist one of his own.

"I've seen the library before. I was there remember?"

It had crossed his mind in the past, sharing his hangout spot with Logan. He was a little surprised that Logan hadn't bumped into him there, since it was so close to the school. With how often they talked and laughed with each other, Hank suspected that letting him in on the secret might just make it more fun.

"Go get your coat pup," he goaded. "We're going out."

------------

"The Barracuda Bar and Lounge," read Logan. "Aren't you a little fuzzy to be a lounge lizard?"

"I believe you were looking for barfly and you'd think so, but there are some nice gents here." Hank felt a little nervous about letting someone in on this aspect of his world. He would never have brought Ororo here, even though she knew that he went. She was way too classy of a woman to bring to a dive like this, but nothing about Wolverine yelled class.

He pulled open the familiar door. The jukebox was loud inside as the door swung open. Hank pushed back the hood on his sweater, feeling okay revealing his mutant self to the Barracuda's patrons. If they hadn't seen him before, they'd get accustomed to the sight soon enough; all the regulars had before.

"Hank!" yelled a male voice from behind the bar. Actually, this bar was filled with almost all male voices. Only a few women came here, because it was just that type of place, though the owner was a woman.

"Hello Tommy." The bartender passed him a beer. "I'll need another of those."

Tommy's face filled with artificial sympathy. "Bad day?" he asked, fetching another bottle and popping the top.

"I brought a new customer to Connie's fine establishment." Hank gestured to Logan standing behind him. Logan nodded curtly at the bartender and then reached for the beer that had been opened for him.

"Ha! That's a good one Hank. You should mention that fine establishment thing when she's around." Tommy was laughing and smiling. He was a young man in his mid-twenties. He didn't have enough brains to go very far in life, but he was a good enough bartender. "How many quarters?"

Hank laid down a ten dollar bill. "I will take a roll tonight. I have finally found some competition."

Hank felt a hand on his shoulder. It was Chris, already drunk, but cheerful enough. "Whatever, I'm on a lucky streak tonight!"

Chris was a middle-aged alcoholic. He spent more time at the bar than Hank ever did, but he had a family waiting for him at home. Hank felt pity for him most of the time, but he also appreciated Chris's company. Chris never treated him differently for his blue fur and ungainly stature.

"This is my friend Logan," he gestured. Again Logan did that minor nod. He was a bit thrown off by the situation. He never suspected this double life of Hank. Seeing that the bartender knew his name and favorite beer, Hank must be a regular. It was kind of unbelievable. While he was surprised, he also found himself a bit amused. Maybe Hank wasn't as boring as he had believed.

"Holy shit! You brought a friend? Well, hey, I'm Chris. I um… I live here." Chris burst into drunken laughter after a brief little wave. He leaned on Hank a little more. "No, man, that's great. I had no idea that you had friends."

Hank tried not to take that in the way in which it was meant. He smiled a little. "How could I want for more friends with you guys here?" He said.

The sarcasm of the comment was lost on poor drunken Chris. "Aw, that's so nice!" he cooed, his face and breath way too close to Hank's face.

"Well, we call next game," said Hank, making a very exaggerated hand gesture to knock Chris off.

Chris smiled. "You betchya buddy!" he yelled out and walked back to one of the two tables. They were using the table that Hank thought of as his. Since the other was unoccupied, there was no reason not to ask to use that one.

"Hey buddy!" exclaimed Logan as he clapped a hand on Hank's shoulder in mockery of the scene he'd just witnessed. "Why the hell do you come here?"

Hank laughed. "Don't you ever want to get outside yourself?" He didn't care to elaborate more than that, just made his way to the jukebox. They might have to wait a while for the table to clear and it'd be a good idea to have good music to pass the time with. Also, Hank was a little embarrassed about speaking his emotions so openly.

--------

The two played again, but this time it was non-competitive. They cheered each others' good shots and talked. It was such an amicable way to pass the time. Eventually some of the bar occupants challenged them to doubles. They mopped up the room, in a metaphorical sense, though it could have used it literally.

"Well Fuzzy, I think you actually play better when you're blitzed." Logan was feeling a bit fuzzy himself from the combination of beer and lack of sleep. The clock above the jukebox was evidence of how fast time was moving in the little bar. "Say, you think it's time to call it an evening?"

Hank glanced at the clock and then looked back at it. It couldn't be nearly midnight already could it? He replaced the bar's pool cue on the wall rack. "My… I hadn't noticed the time."

"Yeah, almost like you got eight hours of sleep," growled Logan, following Hank's lead and putting away his cue.

"Oh, so that explains it; you've missed out on your beauty rest."

Hank took time to say his goodbyes to Tommy, Chris, and some of the other gents that he'd come to think of in a vein similar to friends. Then he and Logan were off into the night. They'd walked to the bar, something that Hank was in the habit of doing, so they had a pleasantly drunk stroll back to the school.

"So, how was being my slave?"

"I believe that I'm still your slave for the next seven hours," offered Logan. He was buzzing a bit from the alcohol he'd consumed, but his healing powers would have that shrugged off by the time that they got back.

"I'm not sure I have much else that needs doing."

"Well, you never did ask me for any sexual favors." Logan smiled in the dark. He was thinking back the pool game when he'd boasted about being able to bed the Beast anytime he wanted to. He hadn't missed the look on Kurt's face and it still made him want to laugh.

"I would think you'd appreciate that." Hank was leading the path back and he took the slightly longer way. It was a nice evening and he was a bit reluctant to let it end. "Unless you were wanting an excuse – like getting drunk."

"I don't need to drink to do what I want."

Hank nodded. "You're right. You don't strike me as the kind that would rely on intoxication to free his inhibitions." Honestly Logan didn't even seem drunk. It suddenly hit Hank why that was. He hadn't even considered Logan's healing powers. "You also don't seem the type to dabble in 'the love that dare not speak its name.'"

Logan found the expression amusing as hell, always had. There was a lot he didn't remember about his own past, but he was pretty sure that Hank was correct in his assessment. From what he could recall, he'd never had so much as a gay dream, let alone an experience. He had always been attracted to women, but he certainly found nothing wrong with men who weren't. He certainly was not a homophobe or else he wouldn't verbally play with Hank in the insinuative way that he did.

"You think too much McCoy! Don't you ever just do what you want to do, fuck who you want?"

Hank sighed before answering. "That's not my style. I lack your impulsiveness. Besides, I don't know; I am lonely and extremely hard-up, but I don't know that I actually want to… have sex with you. Not that I find anything wrong with…"

"Bullshit. You're just in your head too much. You overanalyze fucking everything. You never just go with things."

Now Hank was feeling a tad attacked. Unlike Logan, he was still drunk. "And you have a problem with finishing things. You never follow through on any of these wild ideas you have."

"Well…"

"Yeah?" asked Hank, waiting for the fight to be on.

"Fuck you fuzzball," said Logan without any malice.

The two walked in silence a bit, seeing the mansion ahead of them. Both contemplated what the other has said. Hank was the first to speak. "You may be correct about me. Ororo may have mentioned something similar once or twice, that I may be lacking spontaneity."

"Well, I ain't saying you're right. I can finish shit."

"Oh yes, you really see things through. How many times have left the school now, found out about your origins? How…"

"Okay, wait. This is getting too brutal Furry. You're gonna mention Jeannie and then I'll have to hit you and I don't want to do that." Logan stuck out a hand in a gesture for Hank to stop. Hank nodded in understanding. They were always careful in their banter not to cross lines. It was harder for him to see the line when he was drunk, but he still got it.

They were at the school now, walking up the winding driveway. Spontaneously, Logan picked up on their earlier conversation. "I haven't, you know, done it with a guy. Like you said, the love not speaking its name thing, never…"

"Neither have I," Hank agreed. Then he laughed. "Though I think there might be some surprised to hear that. I have never understood the connection between being homosexual and being intellectual."

Logan considered his next words carefully. "If I did though, I don't think it'd be so bad with you."

They had arrived at the front door to the mansion and Hank looked at Logan startled. He tried to evaluate his friend's face. Was Logan being serious or just teasing? Hank decided that it was teasing. He smiled as he used his key on the lock. "Well, we still have about seven hours of your servitude…"

Logan's face was priceless. He looked simultaneously shocked and uncomfortable. Hank broke into a blue grin.

"Oh man, you almost had me going there," said Logan with obvious relief.

Hank swallowed down a bit of hurt with how relieved Logan sounded. Was it really such a horrible thought? Perhaps it was the alcohol making Hank feel disappointed, but he suspected it wasn't. "Go ahead and head to sleep Wolverine. I release you from the remainder of your slave contract." He opened the door and went inside. Logan followed in behind him.

The entrance to the school was impressive and pristine as always, though lit only by moonlight. Logan could feel that there had been a shift in Hank's mood but he couldn't identify its form or cause. His friend looked pensive; it must be the alcohol, he finally concluded.

"This was a pretty fun time. Thanks for showing me your haunt," whispered Logan. "We'll have to show them how pool is played again."

Hank nodded. They both trudged up the stairs, both feeling suddenly incredibly sleepy. They walked until they came to Logan's door.

"Hey, my dates don't usually walk me to my door," joked Logan.

"You're not dating the right gentlemen then," said Hank with a grin. "Don't even think of asking me in for a nightcap."

They were facing each other and their postures said volumes about the ease they felt around each other. Logan was leaning back on his door frame a bit with his arms crossed loosely. Hank, less than a foot away from his friend, was stretching his arms out in a great yawn.

"Hey, you can't give me orders anymore fuzzface." Logan poked him in the chest. "I'm no longer your slave." Hank tilted his head a bit in acknowledgement of that. "So, anything else I choose to do with my evening is my own doing."

Hank was thinking about how sleeping wasn't exactly a bold independent action and was about to say so, when Logan did the most curious thing. Logan kissed him. There was a split second when he was swooping in that Hank could have dodged; they were both trained fighters after all. It was too surprising of a thing to conceive of though and he didn't move. He trusted Logan enough to allow that intrusion into his personal space.

Logan's facial hair was not soft as his own was. He felt the scratch of Logan's chin before he felt his lips. Logan smelled of beer and musk. His lips were hard against Hank and his mouth was already opened. The words shock and astonishment were not strong enough to capture how truly surprised Hank was by this kiss. There was a tongue in his mouth that belonged not only to a male, but it was Logan's.

For his part, Logan had no freaking idea what he was doing. He knew that Hank was down (most likely due to alcohol consumption) and lonely and that there was a certain odd chemistry between them. He tended not to over-think his urges and so when he'd felt it, he seized it. He was understandably a bit nervous at the lack of response from Hank, since he was thinking this might just end up with him in a great deal of physical pain.

His trepidation didn't last long, however, for Hank started to kiss back. It was heated, warm, and a bit painful. Their lips mashed together tightly and Logan's plundering tongue was met by Hank's own. His hand started to touch Hank's face and then drew back upon finding the fur to be too disconcerting of a feeling. Kissing a man was so different.

Hank had felt the touch on his face and it felt too tender for what this was. There was too much desperation in him for sweet caresses. Brazenly, he wrapped an arm around Logan and gripped at his back with clenched fingertips. When his nails sank in a bit, Logan hissed into his mouth. Hank thrilled to that reaction.

When Logan returned the sting with a bit to Hank's lip, he drew back a bit. Logan smiled at him. "Fair's fair, right?" he asked smartly.

Hank returned to Logan's lips. It was amazing how similar this was to their scrapping. They kissed for minutes, but what seemed longer. Finally, panting a bit, their kisses ebbed and they became more aware of their surroundings. The hallway was quiet. It was a section of the mansion reserved for the adults, so there was no fear of being discovered by a child up for a mid-night pee, but they were neither of them keen to be come upon by others.

They looked at each other, more energetic from their spontaneous makeout session. Hank was the first to laugh and then Logan joined him, quietly. "That was… odd, Wolverine."

"See what happens when you don't over think things?"

"Don't try and pass on your impetuousness to me Boy," scolded Hank. "Not all of us have your knack for healing from scrapes."

Logan grinned. He did not want to take this further, so he said, "I think I'll be heading to sleep. Someone had me up at dawn cleaning a laboratory."

Even though aroused, Hank was extremely relieved that Logan hadn't invited him to bed. He was pretty sure he wasn't ready to take that kind of step right now. "Sounds like a clever fellow. Well, goodnight Logan."

"'Night Hank," said Logan. He then went into his room, closing the door behind him.

Hank was left in the utter silence of the hallway with heart still racing. He raised a hand to his lips and felt their soreness. Then, he continued down the hallway to his own room and only glanced back once.


	5. A direct to the sequel

For all the story alert folks: the first chapter of the sequel is up at .net/s/5294299/1/Caught_Escaping.


End file.
